Shadow
by drjamband
Summary: A Wilson Fic and mystery from Wilson's POV. Chapter titles are episode titles. Read, review, and enjoy!
1. Pilot

PART ONE: THE FRIENDSHIP

CHAPTER 1-PILOT

_Intellectual people are often self-sufficient and a bit more introverted as they believe they can solve things for themselves. It would seem a waste of time to tell anyone else about it._ This is the explanation I have come up with to explain, in simplest terms, the behavior of my friend. He is arrogant, abrasive, and flat-out rude. But he is needy. He needs me (I think) and he needs Cuddy. I know I'm drawn to neediness, but my friend isn't openly needy. He challenges people to give to him, which is why I think I continue to find our relationship attractive.

He enters my office without knocking, insults me and my patients, ruins my relationships, embarrasses me, and physically assaults me, among other things, but for some reason we are friends. He would try to rationalize it away, saying how we're all just animals crawling this earth that occasionally have the chance to do something that will mean something to someone, but to tell you the truth I don't entirely believe that. Then again, I don't have an explanation of my own. Some cosmic force out there has pushed us together and molded us until we fit into each other's lives like slightly misshapen puzzle pieces.

I've saved his neck more than a few times, and I've been pushing him to be a little more human since the day I met him. Really, though, I often find myself wondering how far I would really go for Gregory House.


	2. Paternity

CHAPTER 2-PATERNITY

I assume there's a reason for everything, so I assume there's a reason for the way House is the way he is. I think a lot of it has to do with his father. I don't really know much about him, House hates talking about him. I know that he was a military man who lived by a strict code. And when House didn't fit into that code, well, things got pretty bad. House lived a lot of different places: Egypt, Japan, various locations in the United States, and he learned a lot, but he couldn't break free from his father until Hopkins. John was respected, and he worked hard to earn that respect, but he was always afraid it would vanish in an instant because of his son. The harder he pushed House to stay in line, the more often House crossed it, causing a feud that never settled.

House told me that ever since he was 12 he knew John wasn't his real father. He said his real father was a family friend, and that John had been away when he was conceived, therefore making their relation impossible. Of course I didn't believe him. I mean, House is a genius, but I was sure this was more of an emotional response than a logical one. That's why House hates to see his patients: screws everything up. A few years ago John passed away and, being the ass that he is, House refused to go to the funeral. Cuddy and I drugged him, and he was so pissed when he woke up in my car, halfway to Kentucky. He did **everything** to stop me from bringing him. I had to fish my car keys out of a street drain. Twice. But we made it and House gave the eulogy. He said that his father was a man who didn't accept failure, and then he got choked up. I knew this was fake, but nobody else did. He bent over to his father's body and took a DNA sample. I told him to put it back, but he wouldn't. We got back to New Jersey and the test came back negative. I couldn't believe it. At 12 years old House had suspected with startling accuracy his mother's infidelity and his own conception following it. But that's what makes House, House, you know? He is a stubborn, genius bastard. I do think he felt bad, though, about losing his dad. Despite all the hatred they had for each other, John raised him, and played a large role in making House who he is. House showed a flash of sadness that night at the hospital, something he'd only show to me, or maybe to Cuddy. I know House trusts me, and I trust House. That's why I never ask him about his dad. I'm not sure I'd know any more than I do now if I did.


	3. Occam's Razor

CHAPTER 3-OCCAM'S RAZOR

House's relationships really do have one simple answer on why he fails miserably at them 99 percent of the time: communication. It's not that he doesn't talk to people, he does. He just does it in the wrong way. When he feels threatened, bored, or just about any other emotion, he insults people. He either says too much or not enough. With his team, his patients in the clinic, he says too much. With Cuddy, with Stacy, and sometimes with me, he doesn't say enough. He pushed Stacy away after the infarction, and he's tried to push me and Cuddy away so many times I'd need more than two hands to count them on. I left once. I'm not proud of it. It was after Amber died, and I played it like I was so mad at House. I was, sort of, but it wasn't that much his fault. It was no one's, I guess, but Amber meant so much to me, and I knew how much House, hell, how much everyone disliked her. She didn't leave by choice like I did to my wives or they did to me. It scared the hell out of me and I couldn't be around House. I didn't want him probing me.

Cuddy never left. I admire her for that. House blamed everything on her for years, and it must have been terrible for her. What makes House's relationship with Cuddy different from his relationship with Stacy is that House and Cuddy communicate, albeit pretty terribly. They jab at each other and scream and carry on about this procedure or that procedure, but it's really about them. "That biopsy is too dangerous." means "I know you too well." "I'll do it anyway." means "I love that you know me too well, and I want to see how much you care." Or something like that. Neither of them gives an inch, and that's what makes them great. They try to act like their relationship is complicated because they knew each other in college, she's his boss, he's her employee, but it's really not.

House's relationships seem doomed to fail to people on the outside, but to the people in them, it's about one simple answer: communication.


	4. Maternity

CHAPTER 4-MATERNITY

House is unsure about motherhood. His mother is a constant puzzle to him. She loved him dearly, but he resents that she couldn't protect him from his father. Mothers worry too much about their kids. They're either too strict, not strict enough, or what have you. But I think what really bothers House now is that Cuddy's a mother. No matter what he tells you, House is jealous of that baby. When I went shopping with Cuddy for the baby, House showed up at the store, basically spying on us. He tried to convince Cuddy not to take her. I think it was out of concern and jealousy. He didn't think Cuddy would have time for a baby, that she would be able to take care of it. But he and I both knew the baby would be taking up Cuddy's time-time that she could potentially be spending on House. Cuddy's also like the mother of the hospital. She runs things, makes sure everyone's OK, and so on. Doctors look to her for guidance. I know I do. But House…he's been Cuddy's baby for years. She takes care of him, forgives him, even loves him pretty much unconditionally. She understands House better than anyone I know except for me. Now that she's really a mom, House feels pushed away by her. He craves attention, and this is where I come in.

I think Cuddy's maternal instincts come into play better with House than with her own baby. Not that she's a bad mother, but she's known House for twenty-something years! More often than not I think he's more of a handful than that baby, but she could care for House with her eyes closed if she had to. That's what's so great about moms, I think. I mean, your friends and other family members can do a lot, but your mom is the one that knows exactly what you need. That's Cuddy. She knows what House needs because she **is** what House needs, and deep down I think he knows that.


	5. Damned If You Do

CHAPTER 5-DAMNED IF YOU DO

Forgive and forget. Forgiveness. Ugh. Every platitude and variation having to do with the word makes me uneasy. House isn't about forgiveness, but I am…was. That was before…well, just _before_. But back to House and his lack of forgiveness for a second. House doesn't believe in apologies. I know this, because the one time he really apologized to me, I didn't think he really meant it. And I still don't. But it was at least a nice gesture to a friend. Because usually…usually he doesn't even _think_ of apologizing. He thinks if he has nothing to be sorry for, there's no reason to apologize. There's good logic behind that, and I wish I could be that way, but I find myself apologizing for things that aren't even my fault.

Example: I had a patient whom I misdiagnosed, giving him three months to live. Turns out he was okay, he didn't have cancer at all. The guy got mad at me for the right diagnosis. The _right_ diagnosis! I apologized even though I didn't think I had anything to be sorry about. I told House about it and said that I wanted to write the guy a check, but House told me not to do it. I knew I'd feel guilty if I didn't, so I did. And he ripped it up. Right in front of me. So then I felt guilty for writing the check!

It's strange when and how people will forgive you. I'm more about the how, while House is all about the why. That's why it was hard for both of us with…with Amber. I didn't want to forgive him, I wasn't ready to, when he came apologizing to me because Cuddy told him to. It was somewhat false, and it made me even angrier. But after I came back to Princeton I thought about why he'd done it, something he no doubt thought about as well. Maybe he felt guilty, maybe he didn't, maybe he wasn't sure if he did, but he did it because I'm his friend. Of course, it caused me not to be his friend for a while. It left him feeling pretty bad. I guess that's why he hates forgiveness.


	6. The Socratic Method

CHAPTER 6-THE SOCRATIC METHOD

"Hey Wilson," he greeted me as he strolled into my office, my head down as looked over some paperwork, tapping my pen.

"Hello, House."

"Wilson, when you asked one of the ex-Mrs. Wilsons to marry you, how did you do it?"

Ok, that was certainly strange, but House usually had a point to everything. "Well, I got down on one knee…."

"Yeah, yeah, I know all that. I mean, how did you work up the courage?"

"Why? This can't possibly be about your patient."

"It isn't. It's about Cuddy." Ho-ly Lord.

"You like her."

"Duh," he replied, making a childish face in an attempt to hide what I'm assuming would be a smile.

"So what are you gonna do?"

"Nothing."

"You just came in here to ask advice for…nothing?"

"Yep."

I paused, knowing I had to let him process for a minute before I continued. "House?"

"Fine, alright? I was going to ask her on a date but I was having trouble working up the courage! Forget it, I'll just do it on my own." With that he determinedly limped from the room. I was intent on asking more questions, but figured it would just have to wait. I do love asking questions.


	7. Fidelity

CHAPTER 7-FIDELITY

It's true that I've had…fidelity issues in the past. And House doesn't hesitate to call me out on them. But they're over and done with as far as I'm concerned. I've cheated on wives, they've cheated on me, big deal. I try not to care anymore, but I still do. And it's not like House can even lecture me on fidelity, he hires hookers for God's sakes! I know, I know, it's not "infidelity" but still, all those women…I doubt it's good for him, even if he thinks it is. But then again, knowing House, who knows? It may very well be what's kept him sane all these years. Although personally I think it's the medicine. I mean practicing medicine, not the Vicodin. It would take a team of CIA agents to figure out everything the Vicodin's done to that man.

With Cuddy…House would never….Well he never did with Stacy either. Well he sort of did since he basically asked her to leave Mark. Cuddy is different though, in a lot of ways. She would never take that bullshit. They'd probably have great sex anyway. Oh God. Bad images. Stop it.


	8. Poison

CHAPTER 8-POISON

I knew he was going to try to deflect in a major way. Any time Cuddy came up, he was always quick to change the subject, not wanting to reveal his true feelings for her, even though I pretty much already knew them. So when he came into my office that day, I knew something was up. He had a box of donuts in one hand and his cane in the other. "What's with the box?" I asked, gesturing towards it with my pen.

"Donuts," he said in his matter-of-fact House way. "So, you want one?" he asked, drawing out the "o" in "so."

"Sure," I said, taking a chocolate glazed one. Big mistake. Well, taking any one of them would have been a big mistake, as I found out later. After I had taken the donut he left without saying anything. That's when I knew something was wrong, but I had already taken a bite, so there was nothing I could do except not eat the rest. An hour later I was in the bathroom vomiting my brains out. Just as I walked out of the stall for the third time that day, House came in. "Bastard."

"That's for ruining my chance at a date with Cuddy."

"Oh, please! I didn't ruin anything! You're just too afraid to ask her out and you're mad at your inability to ask me for help!" He could be such a child at times; it was quite exhausting trying to keep up with him. He stormed off leaving me befuddled once again, but I was also angry. I had to ask Cuddy for the rest of the day off, which assuredly warranted a long discussion between her and House. You know, he just really pisses me off sometimes.


	9. DNR

CHAPTER 9-DNR

The next day Cuddy called me into her office to discuss a patient of mine. I lifted my fist to knock when I heard what was unmistakably a House and Cuddy argument from the other side of the door.

"House, I can't believe you. Seriously, why would you do that? I had to tell all his patients they need to reschedule, and-"

"Look, I know how hard you try with the hospital, but I don't really care."

"House!" I sighed. Poor Cuddy. House was being a real ass lately.

"Cuddy!" he retorted sarcastically. I heard his uneven gait as he came towards the door, and I hid under the assistant's desk as House stormed out, leaving Cuddy in his wake. A minute later I knocked and slowly opened the door. Cuddy was sitting on her couch, head in hands, rubbing her forehead. She stood when she saw me.

"I'm sorry about House," I whispered when I got close to her.

"Stop apologizing, Wilson," she said, smiling.

"It's just…I don't know what it is lately, but don't push him away. I know you must be tired of it, because I am, but you need to be patient with him for just a little longer."

"I'll always be patient with him, Wilson. I just don't know for how much longer I'm going to have to do it."

"I know," I said softly, squeezing her shoulder and leaving the office.

"Wilson." I looked back. "It's probably best if you forget that happened…House and I."

"OK." I made a mental note: _Do not remember_.


	10. Histories

CHAPTER 10-HISTORIES

It would certainly seem odd to the outside observer that Cuddy and I have so much patience with a man who warrants very little of it. I guess it has something to do with our histories with House. Cuddy and House have known each other since college. They met at University of Michigan. Cuddy was a student there, and so was House, after his expulsion from Johns Hopkins. They knew each other, but of course she knew **of** him before she ever **knew** him. He was a legend. She feels bad for crippling him, and she was the only one who would hire him after he'd been fired four times before. I think they've always been in love with each other, but they're too busy bantering and going at each other's throats to realize it. They continue to amaze me.

House and I met at a medical conference down south. We were at a bar, and some guy pissed me off so I threw a bottle at him, which broke a window. I ended up in jail. House saw me at the bar and decided to go down to the jail and bail me out. It was a nice thing to do, considering he didn't even know me. We've been friends ever since. When I think about it, it awes me, but our relationship is so unconventional that I barely even think about it. We are what we are, yet lately I've been questioning what exactly that is.


	11. Detox

CHAPTER 11-DETOX

I was finally feeling better after the donut incident. I was just heading back to my office after a meeting when I couldn't open the door. Something was blocking my path. I stepped back, put my hand on the knob, and shoved my shoulder into it. I heard a muffled groan and a thud, looked down, and stepped over a large mass to get inside. The room was extremely dark, and I gasped when I turned on the light. "House?" My friend was slumped over on the floor, eyes barely open, using his jacket as a pillow. "House what's wrong?"

"I tried not to," he said, moaning.

"Tried not to what?"

"To use the cane," he groaned loudly. "It hurt."

I sighed. "Obviously, House."

"Wilson…pills…." He pointed across the room to where the orange bottle lay on the floor. I picked it up and poured some in his hand, watching him down them dry as always. I gave him a minute before I started asking questions.

"House, why did you try to walk without the cane?"

"Isn't it obvious?" I shook my head. "I wanted to be better for…" he trailed off.

"Cuddy," I whispered, running a hand through my hair. "Oh, House. Sometimes I just don't know what to do with you. Just…talk to her."

"I can't." I just looked at him.

"House I am so tired of this crap you try to pull. You talk to anyone and everyone, Cuddy is no different."

"But she **is**_**."**_

"Yeah, OK House."

"This is **your** fault, Wilson."

"**What** are you talking about? House, I am so tired of this. You **need** to take responsibility. You always blame anything and anyone but you," I lectured, jabbing a finger at him. He threw open the door and slouched out with his cane. I was on the verge of having absolutely no idea what was going on.


	12. Sports Medicine

CHAPTER 12-SPORTS MEDICINE

House had a new patient. Thank God, I thought. It was better to have him focused on the puzzle. I thought that maybe he wouldn't bother me so much, but I was wrong. He strolled into my office aggressively frisbeeing the file onto my desk. "Need a consult," he said gruffly.

"Hmm…I don't know, House. Didn't seem like you-"

"Wilson, this is a patient, so just **shut up**!" he screamed. "He's a tennis player and I think he has bone cancer." I opened my mouth to retort but just closed it and looked at the file.

"Yep," I said simply. "I'll tell him." Truth was I didn't want to be anywhere near House, but this was for the good of the patient. He was acting frazzled lately; this had to be about more than just Cuddy. He would never be this worked up over something that didn't happen.

I discussed treatment options with the patient while House barely paid attention, looking out the window every five seconds, then remembering where he was, eyes darting back into the room.

I walked out quickly when the consult was over, eager to get back to my office and to get there faster than House. "Wilson!" I heard. I spun on my heel. He looked a little bit worried and slightly confused, rubbing the back of his neck. "I…need, um…."

I walked over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. "It's OK, House."


	13. Cursed

CHAPTER 13-CURSED

I'd been having the same dream for a few nights, and it was kind of creeping me out. The dream is that I'm in my car in the hospital's parking lot after a particularly long day. The car won't start, and I swear under my breath. I see Cuddy walking out, keys in hand, and I consider asking her for help. Just as I stick my head out of the rolled-down window, someone grabs me from behind, his palm on my chest. My breathing accelerates and he snaps he fingers. I am standing on a street corner in the middle of the night. House zips by on his motorcycle, and the man points. I nod as if to let the man know that I know this person. "Now watch," the man says as he snaps his fingers again. I am now sitting on a particularly well-lit bus, almost all the way in the back.

"No, please, let me off," I beg the man. I don't want to go through this again. No more buses, no more pain. Please.

"I can't do that, James," he replies in a low voice. I inhale sharply when I hear that the man knows my name. "You must watch this."

"Watch what?" I ask, but realize that the man is nowhere near me as I'm halfway up the aisle of the bus, walking towards the driver. The driver is House. He doesn't seem to notice me as he stops the bus and gets off quickly. I think about calling after him, but I don't know what to say; I can't seem to get any words out. I step off the bus and into the night, looking around for the driver, even though now I can't remember who he is. He is nowhere to be found.

Just then the man approaches me and says, "You must remember this, James. If nothing else, you will remember this." Then I wake up.

I decided to write the dream down and keep the envelope in my office. For reasons I didn't quite know, I labeled the front "ONE." I had a feeling there would be more to come.


	14. Control

CHAPTER 14-CONTROL

I was tapping my pen against the papers on my desk while House was sitting on my couch. "I think I need to maybe…try a little harder," he informed me.

"Try a little harder…**what**?" I emphasized. I wasn't really sure where he was going with his. He had called me and said he wanted to talk to me in my office, alone, this afternoon. He had no case after the bone cancer tennis player, so I agreed.

"For…for Cuddy," he stuttered.

"OK, what the **hell** is going on with you?"

"Fine, Wilson, way to be a true friend," he said sarcastically.

"No, House, it's just that…you seem different lately. Like something's really bothering you."

"I just…I just need to get some control," he said, and with that he walked off. Something weird was up, and I didn't like the odds that it was going to turn out well.


	15. Mob Rules

CHAPTER 15-MOB RULES

I had another dream. The man was there again, and it was short but simple. "I told you to watch, James," he says in his low and commanding voice.

"I did watch! I watched everything you told me to watch!" I shriek frantically.

"Exactly, James. You only watched what I pointed out, not what was under the surface. You should have listened, James."

"I did listen!" I yell.

"I'm not talking about me." His voice rumbles in my eardrums.

"Who **are** you talking about, then?" I am getting impatient.

"Remember this and you will know. If nothing else, remember this." He kept ending with that. It was strange, very strange. I wrote everything down on another piece of paper and labeled the envelope "TWO." There would surely be more to come.


	16. Heavy

CHAPTER 16-HEAVY

I felt like a huge weight was weighing down on me. House was angry with me, I was feeling lost about what I should do for him, one of my patients thought her diagnosis was wrong, and on top of everything I was trying to piece together the two dreams with no success whatsoever. I decided maybe it would make House feel better if I secretly "prepped" Cuddy for House's request for a date. I walked to her office confidently, convinced I was doing my best friend a service. I knocked softly and she waved me in, and I was surprised to see House standing there, in the middle of the office, looking like he was in the middle of a rant. "Wilson!" he said impatiently, raising his voice.

"Oh, um…." I swallowed nervously.

"Forget it. Talk to you later, Cuddy," he said disgustedly as he walked out the door. I looked nervously at Cuddy, she shrugged, and I followed House. He noticed me by his side and started talking, not breaking stride. "I was about to ask Cuddy on a date, and you barge in like you own the place!"

"She **waved** me **in**!" I defended.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," he said, sounding slightly defeated.

"Look, I was only going in there so I could maybe talk with Cuddy about you, your intentions."

He walked a few steps in front of me, paused, turned to me and said, "Wilson, that is the **stupidest** thing I have ever heard. Stop bothering me." I felt a knot in my stomach as he walked away. The weight had just gotten heavier.


	17. Role Model

CHAPTER 17-ROLE MODEL

Cuddy asked me and House to give a lecture together to some first-year med students. Usually I didn't mind, but I was dreading it. No matter what I seemed to do, it seemed to hurt House. He wouldn't even talk to me, just look at me, his blue eyes piercing my own as I felt the icy burn of his stare. The lecture was on, of all things, bedside manner. Cuddy apparently thought it was a good idea to have two differing viewpoints on the matter. She must be pregnant, I thought. There was no way this could ever have been a good idea.

An hour after her request, House and I sat in the lecture hall, me reading some files, House doodling on the board. The students filed in after another unbearable ten minutes and we began.

"Okay," I started, "today we're going to talk about bedside manner. I believe it's important to make your patients, or in Dr. House's case, patient, feel comfortable."

"How comfortable can they be when they're dying?" House quietly snickered. I shot him a glare and kept going.

"As their doctor, patients put their trust in you. You should try as hard as you can not to break that trust. After all, they are counting on you to explain to them the risks and benefits of each decision. Or if you're Dr. House, you just force them into cooperating lest they die right then and there." I looked sideways at House for a moment, then to my surprise he walked forward and addressed the students.

"Unless you want to be the most pathetic doctor on the face of this earth you should not listen to a word Dr. Wilson says." I gaped at him. This was going to be trouble. "I don't get to know my patients unless I really have to. If you do otherwise, it clouds your judgment and you become unable to remain objective."

"This is why Dr. House has so many close friends," I snorted, most likely being too personal in a professional setting.

"I save lives, Wilson. You just hold people while they die."

"At least my patients like me!" I yelled.

"I'd rather be alive and have a doctor that I hate than be dying but thinking 'Oh well, at least my doctor was a giant teddy bear,'" he stressed.

"Oh my God, you are a ridiculous child, House."

"Child **this**," he said as he swung his cane with one hand and hit me in the face. I screamed and most of the students gasped. I looked up and saw Cuddy looking at us from the top of the steps. I was curled on the floor, my face bleeding, while House was standing a few feet away, his cane in the air, as he looked at Cuddy forlornly.

"You two. My office. **Now**."


End file.
